Inspired by MalibuGuy...here is something to hopefully enjoy. THE RHINOCEROS THAT RAN LIKE AN ANTELOPE The idea came to him out of the afternoon's dust and heat. It wasn’t an idea at first at first it was an antelope moving easily across the valley and down to the muddy patches of water scattered on the red clay. Joe watched the antelope with mindless awe. Watched the thin delicate legs barely touch the ground as if the antelope’s body was suspended by rays of sunlight and the feet were only teasing the earth. There was no sound to these footfalls, just visual echoes in the shape of small puffs of red dust. A cloud moved across the sun and Joe shut his eyes. But the antelope didn’t go away, it became a herd and he watched them play inside his head, he watched them run in effortless harmony with gravity. Joe rolled over and let the afternoon bake the other half of his body. His body. He opened one eye and saw the thick gray skin of his left foreleg. Nothing delicate about it. It was a tree stump, a block of stone; it was as thick and heavy as the earth that supported it. Joe shut his eye and imagined himself running. His enormous gray body trundled with all the grace of an avalanche and birds took flight from the shaking of the earth and fat storm clouds of dust exploded as his toes dragged across the occasional patch of grass and tore it up by the roots. Everyone paid attention when Joe moved, the smart ones had learned to watch Joe’s big horn...that was the spear the rest of his bulk would follow. Jealousy crawled over Joe’s skin like hungry flies. He opened his eyes and pretended he was thirsty so he could stop thinking about antelopes. The tickbird levitated off Joe’s back and Joe snorted and grunted to his feet and shook his hard gray skin and slapped at the flies with his tail. The tickbird returned and began to dig between the cracks in Joe's skin where a fat brown orb loaded with blood was lunching. Joe glanced over his shoulder at the bird and the bird played dumb and wouldn’t look Joe in the eye. A group of lions had settled down around the biggest mud hole and Joe was too disturbed by his recent thoughts to have the heart to argue with the lions. Some tree monkeys had summoned the courage to nervously sip from the next largest pond and Joe felt sorry for them so he chose the third pond, where only one antelope was elegantly dipping down for a long cool drink. The antelope felt the ground move as Joe began trotting its way. Joe saw it looking at him and in a silly burst of vanity, Joe tried to gently trot, as if he were an antelope. The flood of laughter from the monkeys was so loud that Joe stumbled over his own feet and almost fell on his face. He caught himself and looked at the monkeys and they were shrieking so hard they couldn’t stop and those that were afraid of Joe’s angry scowl still couldn’t stop so they ran up the nearest tree and laughed even harder. Joe's hurt and anger flushed through his entire being and hot air bellowed from his lips and he turned and ran straight at the tree and knocked it flat onto the ground and the terrified monkeys ran in a dozen directions and one was so frightened it ran straight into the paws of a curious lion and moments later all that was left was the monkey's head, upside down on the ground with the look of surprise still in its eyes. And now it was Joe's turn to laugh and he flicked his tail in punctuation and gave the world his back and lumbered over to the edge of the forest and when he was sure no one could see him, he wept. That night Joe didn't sleep. That night he listened to the cough of the cats that circled the plain and he listened to the moan of a buffalo that was losing its life and he listened to the frightened thrashing in the thick canopy overhead and then he realized that he was dreaming and he was dancing with the clouds and stars. And then the tickbird woke him up and the long shadows of morning quickly retreated and he stood up and looked down at his massive reflection in the matted grass that was last night's bed and the first rays of sunlight dried out the damp spot on Joe's left side. Joe moved out into the center of the plain and he sniffed the last two puddles in the mud. He chose the larger and drank half of it. The upside-down monkey head wasn't far away and its look of surprise had withered into sadness. Joe was alone. Others were gathering along the edge but only Joe had ventured forth and claimed the morning. And in the moment of strength, Joe began a gentle trot…and it became an easy circle…and Joe relaxed and he didn't think about anything except the pleasure of his widening arc and the soft puffing sound of his feet in the thin morning air. He was moving easily and swiftly and he allowed himself to extend the reach of his legs and the world moved quicker and the air rushed along his body and Joe turned his head slightly so the morning air could kiss his cheek and now he let his full strength pull him into a gallop and the tick bird leaped into the air and looked for a tree and Joe could see that the entire plane was his and he could run a mile in any direction and be completely alone and he shut his eyes and ran even faster until he felt his mouth open slightly to taste more air. And then Joe relaxed and let his legs soften their strokes and he opened his eyes and the wind against his skin eased into a whisper and suddenly he wasn't alone, on each side of him was an antelope and they nodded good morning and kept stride with him. And Joe nodded back and they gently trotted another half mile together and then the antelope on Joe's left smiled and turned toward the tree line and the other antelope saluted Joe with a skip and buck and then joined its mate. Joe, alone, slowed more and finally let his nose lead him to a small tree filled with sweet dew covered leaves and Joe shook his head and the tick bird landed on his back and pecked at Joe's skin with reproach and Joe send a shiver through his thick gray hide that forced the bird to jump into the air and when it again landed on Joe's back, it was wise enough to keep it's opinions to itself. Joe smelled the leaves and pushed deep into them and let the dew wash his face. It was a good tree and he decided to keep it for the rest of the day. He looked around but the only other creature was his shadow. He studied it, liked it, enjoyed the powerful size of it. Him. Self. And then another shadow joined him. Just for a moment the shadow of the giant bird passed low and fast, then the sound of the wings slapped the thick morning air and the bird settled down to poke and gnaw the monkey's skull. By the end of the day, the two remaining pools of muddy water had evaporated and Joe and the others looked at the sky and the hard blueness told them it was time. The next morning Joe began walking with the sun to his back. Midway through the day he would stop and if there wasn’t a bush or a rock to make shade, Joe would try to crawl into his own shadow. A new crop began sprouting from the hot earth. Bones. And on some days the only shadows were those of the wings overhead and even Joe fled from them. The forest on the edge of the plane disappeared and a new one bloomed, made of rocks and cliffs. All trees were gone now and Joe could feel the muscle and weight begin to fall from his massive frame. It its place he grew a skinny fear that left his lips dry and his tongue thick and heavy. For two weeks Joe continued this pilgrimage. Some days the world was so empty and Joe was so alone he could walk all day without opening his eyes and when he could feel the sun shaking hands with the night, Joe would blink away the dust but when he stared out at the world there was nothing to tell him he had moved at all, that he had taken one step, and yet his body ached with fatigue. Life became heat and movement followed by darkness and exhaustion. Finally his destination arrived. Joe woke up sad. He would have shown more fear but that needed more muscle than he had left. The tickbird was gone. Joe raised his head and looked for it sitting in a tree but there were no trees. Something was eating something on a far away hill. And now Joe was completely alone. He thought about getting up but he didn't. He felt his dry tongue search the inside of his mouth for a hint of moisture but there was none. Joe felt the sun rising and he didn't fight it. Joe coughed and felt his body sink deeper into the powdered clay. Joe heard wings but this time the shadows didn't frighten him, they cooled him. Joe smelled sweet morning dew trapped in flowers and he knew he was dreaming. Joe saw an antelope running towards him, laughing to him, promising him all sorts of wonderfuls. And now Joe was running with the antelope and a soft breeze picked him up from the clay and Joe’s feet never felt so light and he looked around for the tickbird and it was gone. And Joe opened his eyes and there was nothing to see. Joe sighed again, and as his last breath rushed out of him, the dust barely moved.
